


Promises, Promises

by eeroeides



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages, The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Seasons
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Post Adventure Depression, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeroeides/pseuds/eeroeides
Summary: You'd think after all his adventures Link would be used to the feelings they always left behind.
Relationships: Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Promises, Promises

Music drifted through viridian leaves, through dark gnarled branches, through the faint light of the fading sun. Pink petals fluttered at the slightest of breezes, dancing to their own tune and landing on bright ferns, on rain-mixed mud, on dyed black hair.

Link picked one out of his bangs and held it up with a small smile. It was heavy in his hold, heat stinging through his shoulders from where fire and magic and ice had hissed across his skin. The magic potion hadn’t been quite enough to alleviate all his hurts but, well, that was the norm, wasn’t it? He got dragged out of bed by a dream, by a voice, by a call for help and worked through the pain until he could sleep it all away.

The forest by Nayru’s house was grounding, at least. His thoughts fluttered like moths through the branches. Small kingdoms of insects rose from where they had slumbered during the hottest hours of the day to stretch and swarm in the heavy humidity of the rainstorm that had passed through.

Laughter buzzed in time with their wings and Link watched a dragonfly dart from puddle to puddle only to land on the toe of his boot. 

“Taking a break?”

Link turned, lifting his head. The muscles in the back of his neck ached as if weed roots had settled there before being yanked free. Zelda’s warm, orange dress was a bright flower among the brown and green. He could still feel the heat of her lips against his cheek and he ducked his head in both respect and the need to hide the blush that spread across his nose.

“It’s quieter here,” he said, not daring to lift his voice, afraid to disturb the music and laughter and birdsong. Golden light faded and he tried not to think of the magic that sent him to Holodrum and Labrynna in the first place.

Skirts shuffled and the princess’ bare feet padded lightly across the moist dirt. She had left her shoes and crown behind, settled somewhere in Nayru’s hidden room so curious fingers couldn’t find them. “You could stay, if you like.”

Link blinked once. Laughed. “And leave you alone in Hyrule?” His grin was wide and boyish and didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I couldn’t do that.”

Reaching forward, the princess took a strand of his black hair and gave it a tiny tug. She hummed, staring at him with warm, starlight eyes. They were knowing. Too knowing.

He looked away.

She laughed. “You dyed your hair.”

“I—yeah.” Link dug his heel into the ground and looked up under his bangs. “Do you like it?”

Zelda patted his shoulder. “You’ve destroyed Ganon twice,” she said. “I think you can change your hair however you like. Other’s opinions be damned.”

He opened his mouth maybe to tell her that her opinion did matter to him, but then shut it with a small shrug of his shoulders.

“I do miss the pink, though.”

Link snorted. “You would,” he said, lips curling in a smirk as he leaned forward. “All those pretty pink tapestries hung up in your room—”

“You—!” She shoved her hand against his cheek, pushing the smug teenager away. “I take it back! I didn’t miss you at all!”

Laughing, he took her wrist in hand and tugged her gently along, guiding her into a slow dance that followed the chorus of laughter and music drifting down the deer trails. Joy bubbled up in his chest, warm and chasing away the winter that had settled there. “Not even a little bit?”

Her pout was light, eyes sparkling with barely hidden laughter. “No,” she told him. “Not at all; you’re not allowed on my ship when it comes.”

“Like they would let me on anyway,” Link said, looking up at the way the last of the sunlight danced through the pink petals. His smile was wiry as he guided her over roots and rocks. “Your soldiers don’t like me very much.”

She hummed and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Not your fault.”

“It is,” he said with a laugh. “Oh, it very much is.”

“You were _ten_. They were _hunting_ you.”

“And now I’m fifteen and look like the bad boy your father warned you about,” Link tossed his head and deepened his voice to sound like the late King. “Don’t go near that Link boy, Zelda,” he said grinning as she giggled against his collar. “He likes those pointy, metal objects too much.”

Zelda leaned back, narrowed her eyes. “You know,” she mused, tapping her chin in thought. “I think he’s still madder about the fire rod, actually.”

Groaning, Link threw his head back. “It was _one_ tapestry!”

“That depicted the Fall of the Hero!”

“Then I should care about it more than he should!” Link threw up his hand and startled a bird from the nearby tree. “I _am_ the hero!”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” she said. “It’s a story. And it’s,” her sigh was heavy. “It’s good to remember the price, too.”

“Of what; the fight or the tapestries?”

She slapped his shoulder and Link could only laugh.

Quiet comfort settled around them and he slowed their dance to a stop, standing in the middle of the last rays of golden sunlight. Crickets woke from their dreams and the first stars winked awake above them. The sky turned orange than pink than purple and faded away to a blue that settled deep in his bones. Firelight trickled through the trees but he wanted to stay on the edges of it for now.

“You will come back, won’t you?”

Link watched constellations form above their heads. Maybe he would dye his hair again. Maybe he would settle down in his uncle’s old home. Maybe he’d find a purpose, at last, to put down his sword.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll come back.”

“Not yet, though,” she said and pushed up on her tip toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

It was the second that day. Heat burned across his cheeks.

His hands settled on her waist as she dropped back down. “You have friends,” Zelda told him. “Promise me you’ll remember them.”

“I promise,” he said.

“And don’t set their very expensive, hundred year old heirlooms on fire!”

Link laughed again. “I won’t! I promise!”

“Swear on the Master Sword!”

“I swear! I won’t set anything on fire!”

Zelda pulled away, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. She sighed after a moment and patted his cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“Uh huh,” stepping out of his hold, she hoisted her skirts up. The edges were damp with mud. She dropped them. “The least you can do is not get hit by lightning again.”

Link shook his head and offered his arm. “I’ll do my best.”

Zelda hooked their elbows together. “Well, as long as you _try_.”

* * *

It was a month later that Link was looking up at the dark, stormy clouds, waves crashing over the edge of his boat, wind whipping through his hair. Slick rope was in his hand, burning against his palm each time it slipped further and further through his grasp. The sail strained against the mast, salt water lapped against his boots, and the world felt like it was spinning too fast for him to escape.

Light split the sky in half and thunder crackled.

 _Guess I won’t be keeping that last promise after all_ , he thought as the bolt of lightning struck his boat and sent him careening into a land of dreams and nightmares.


End file.
